Thinking of Tate had made her throat thick with tears, and she’d had to take several deep breaths to regain her composure. She had gone so far as to set the blade against the delicate skin of Jaren’s neck. And then he’d hummed a few bars of the prayer in his sleep.

The sound was unexpectedly beautiful. His voice wasn’t smooth and practiced like the Endlans’; it was ragged and a little off-key. But he had gotten the emotion of the prayer exactly, and her nerve fell away like autumn leaves. He was just a boy, and she’d brought him here.

With a heavy sigh, she had gone back to the door and opened it loudly on purpose, waking him.

Sage rolled over next to her, sighing in her sleep. A part of Leelo wanted to wake her cousin and tell her everything. If she already suspected what Leelo had done, then waiting would only increase Sage’s sense of betrayal. She was better off confessing now, explaining that she hadn’t known what she was doing, that she was sorry she hadn’t told Sage right away.

If Sage didn’t know and Leelo confessed, she might be able to help. She wouldn’t want to get Leelo in trouble, not real trouble. She was just angry with Leelo for being so upset over Tate.

At least, she hoped that was all it was. But then she remembered the way Sage had looked at her when she asked about the boat. How Sage had said Pieter deserved his fate. And if she could be that callous about an incantu, what would she do to a true outsider? The image of Ketty slitting the sheep’s throat came back to her, and Leelo covered her eyes with her hands, pressing the heels of her palms into the sockets until she saw stars.

Jaren didn’t seem like he would deliberately cause her any trouble. He was bigger and older than her, but he was also scared. She couldn’t blame him. He’d been chased here by an enormous wolf, and he was alone and friendless in a tiny hut in the middle of nowhere. She remembered how affectionately he’d spoken of his sisters and his father, how devastating the loss of their mother had been.

Leelo had felt so much empathy that for a moment she’d considered telling Jaren about Tate, but though she wanted to trust him, she couldn’t undo all the years of warnings she’d received about outsiders.

They say when the Wandering Forests were cut down by the outsiders, the trees screamed in agony, Ketty would say, when she told stories at night around the fire. When their roots were torn from the soil, they wept sap as red as blood. And when the animals of the Forest lost their shelter, they also lost their minds, turning into ferocious, bloodthirsty creatures who had to be destroyed.